


s'wonderful, s'marvelous, she should care for me

by TheSubtextMachine



Category: Vertigo (1958)
Genre: F/F, M/M, MIDGE IS A LESBIAN, Scottie has some uhhh self control in this version, Unrealized feelings on Judy's part, attempt at fancy prose, decadent, me trying to be high aesthetic, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2019-06-23 16:30:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15610356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSubtextMachine/pseuds/TheSubtextMachine
Summary: Midge is a lesbian dating another career woman, and Judy may or may not have flutters in her chest whenever they're around. It's all totally under control. All of it.





	1. just as blue as i could be

The first moment that Judy sees Midge, her green skirt is swishing across her calves and the lighting in Scottie’s parlor is distinctly red, and Midge is tipping white wine into her uncolored lips. Judy had felt distinctly unworthy to be at the party itself, considering all of the former police officers and career women that surrounded her.

Midge catches her eye from across the room, and even though she’s still a stranger to Judy, something odd passes between their interlocked eyes. Judy feels a pang in her stomach of some undefinable thing, and her fingers clutch tighter around the stem of her glass. Scottie joins in the frame of Judy’s vision, and their immediate kind of familiarity is clear by the way that Midge rests a hand on his shoulder as she breaks the unspoken connection to say some biting comment to her friend.

Judy wonders what that comment was. It seems to roll out of Midge, possibly helped by the wine, working to lower her catty inhibitions. Scottie lets free a rumbling laugh, a laugh like thunder at night. Judy feels a drop in her stomach, the kind that she’s all to used to at the sight of Scottie himself, but she reasons that she’ll lose that conditioned response one day.

The man himself turns to Judy, and it breaks the pale pink purity of Judy’s thoughts as Scottie waves her in, and she feels her heels clack on his floor as she awkwardly steps toward the pair. Midge has already put her face on, looking so presentable and friendly that it’s almost as if she’s someone else entirely, a mysterious stranger with horn rimmed glasses holding out her calloused hands with fear in her green eyes and a wide smile.

“I don’t believe we have been introduced,” Midge says, and Judy takes her hand cautiously, shaking it like she’s afraid.

“We haven’t. I’m a new friend of Scottie’s. You are?”

“Margaret, but call me Midge. I’m an old friend, naturally.”

“Naturally?” Judy asked, quirking her eyebrow and vaguely recognizing that she’s just a bit taller than Midge, judging by the way she has to tilt her eyes up to meet her intense gaze.

“Of course. If there are six women in Scottie’s apartment, half of them are his friends’ wives, one is his paramour, one he wishes was his paramour, and one is his old friend. Since I am unmarried and very unattractive to him, it’s only natural that I am the old friend. I’m assuming that you are a current paramour?”

“No!” said Judy, a bit too loudly, and that drew a couple of chuckles from both Midge and Scottie.

“Does the lady protest too much?” Midge asked, turning her head to Scottie, mid-sip of his amber drink. He almost appeared bored in the soft light of his house, but Judy supposed that boredom was just a side effect for him. With a bum leg and a lost love, it seemed like he was fairly hard to excite.

“Not at all, not at all. She is so not interested in my _dashing_ appearance, that I would take offense if I myself wasn’t equally disinterested.”

“Disinterested in who? Judy of yourself? Midge asked, and there was the delicious taste of a laugh in her voice, and it made Judy feel a bit fluttery.

“Both? I do not find myself particularly attractive, and Judy’s apartment is a touch too messy for a neat freak like yours truly.”

“That’s like the pot calling the kettle black,” Midge remarked, speaking out of the side of her mouth before sharing a look with Judy, the kind that Judy didn’t completely understand.

Scottie responded by reprising his thunder-ish laughter, and this time Judy joined in, still uncomfortable in her own skeleton. She looked at the floor, before looking up at Midge again, trying not to let her eyes roam up the bland fabric of her dress.

“So, Midge, are you married?” Judy asked, and the way that both she and Scottie broke into smiles at that question made her anxiety spike for what seemed to be the millionth time that night.

“Thankfully, no. I actually almost got married to Johnny-Boy over here,” Midge said, pointing her thumb at Scottie’s smirking face.

“Midge is… unlikely, you see?” he said, speaking in some kind of elusive joke on his tongue.

“I’m not sure I do.”

“Well, we married for a hot minute, but she broke it off. She was very intent on me finding, as she called it, real love.”

“Was your love fake?” Judy asked, getting more confused with every word he said.

“As fake as they come. I’m not, how should I say it… _inclined_ to men.”

Realization dawned on Judy. She had a few friends who were similar, friends whose eyes would meet in that certain dark look of understanding, who brushed off certain questions with that trademark look of feigned casualness, their poker face only slightly broken by the soft V of their brows. 

“Oh, that’s interesting,” Judy said, her voice more strained than she expected. Something in her head seemed to lift, and it put her on edge. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Midge, and she observed the pair become the slightest bit uncomfortable as if she was a ghost.

“Do you… have a problem with that?” Scotties asked, receiving an elbow to the side from Midge. He moved a bit closer to Midge, almost ready to protect her, as if Judy was about to become overtake by the rage of homophobia and tackle Midge.

Despite the fact that Judy would easily lose a fight between her and Midge, Judy felt that this protectiveness came more from some bad experiences than Judy’s threatening nature (of which she had none), so she held herself in place, not taking a step back or cowering beneath Scottie’s tall figure.

“Not at all! I think that I may be a bit sick tonight, so I hope that accounts for the… odd behavior,” Judy said, before turning to Midge to continue, “and if you ever would like to meet some people who are of, um, similar inclinations… I can surely introduce you.”

This caused Midge to laugh for a cruel second, before letting loose her toothy, pleasant smile.

“Don’t worry, Judy. I’m very familiar with the scene. You can even meet my partner tonight! She’s coming late,” said Midge, appearing mostly comfortable, save for a fidget in her fingers around the stem of her glass.

“Why?” Judy asked, trying to quell the odd burn in her chest. There was no explanation for it, but its presence was undeniable.

“She’s a career woman, like me, so she faces late hours. She’s in charge of the fashion column in the Daily Gazette, if you’ve ever read it.”

“Oh my god, you’re with Lucy Chanhassen?” Judy asked, the name suddenly lighting alarms behind her eyes. Lucy was well revered in her circle for her wise tips and biting commentary. She was considered an absolute visionary among the city girls.

“Absolutely. And the brassieres she speaks so highly of? I designed them,” said Midge, her chin lifted with the air of smug excitement. 

Meanwhile, Judy was practically losing her mind. She was not only wearing one of those bras, but she was devoted to the fashion column that had recommended them. Her eyes grew wide, her delicate eyebrows inching further towards her hairline.

“Is that true, Scottie?”

Scottie simply nodded, proud as if Midge was his daughter. Judy’s heartbeat had increased rapidly, and it went into double time when a dark haired woman joined Midge’s side.

Lucy only spared Judy a quick, assessing glance, starting at her cheap shoes and ending at the flyaways at the crown of her head, not restrained by the dollar store barrette she used to attempt to keep them down.

Lucy Chanhassen was the very definition of sleek, clad in minimalist black and white, her hair cut into a straight, shiny bob. If this were a movie, she would have sunglasses that rivaled the sun and cherry red lipstick, but this was Scottie’s apartment, so she only had curled eyelashes and the barest hint of color on her lips. 

The odd thing was that Judy didn’t feel happy or sad, or any simple emotion in a reaction to Midge’s partner. All she felt was a curling in her toes, the squinting of her eyes like she was facing down some competition, which was simply absurd, because what were they even competing for?

It was all a moot point, because if they were competing, Lucy was without a doubt winning.

Scottie looked at their silent interaction with some kind of excitement on his face, and Midge could only look on with confusion. In the periphery of Judy’s vision, she saw the best friends share a look, with a conversation that apparently needed no words. This was what made her tear her eyes away from her, and turned back to the center of the group.

“So, who are you?” Lucy asked, mouth drawn together like she had tasted something unbearably sour. This caused Midge to give a good natured eye roll, which Scottie took a slightly more judgemental stance. 

“Judy. Judy Barton. I actually work at a store, and I _love_ your column,” she said, tucking a curl behind her ear nervously. In a funny way, this made Lucy relax, appear almost charmed. 

As if to confirm this, Lucy leaned into Midge, bumping arms and whispering something into her ear that made Midge bring a hand to her mouth to cover what was probably (hopefully?) a laugh.

They quietly linked their arms, and Scottie sighed for a second before his attention turned back to Judy.

“Lucy, why don’t you introduce yourself?” he asked, as Lucy sidled herself a hint closer.

“Why? Judy here already knows me and my preference in perfume. I know her name and that she works at some restaurant-”

“Store,” Midge corrected easily, capping it with a sip of wine. 

Lucy turned to her, eyelashes fluttering in some kind of apology, not to Judy, not to Scottie. Judy couldn’t help but notice how her bob glimmered and shined in the light, and judging by the way that Midge slung her arm over Lucy’s shoulders and let her hand play a bit with the smooth-looking strands, she figured that Midge noticed too.

Scottie looked at Judy, and he shared some kind of glance that was half “what a showy couple” and another half “sorry about that”, and Judy accepted that with a graceful nod.

“So, how did you two meet?” Judy asked, trying to shift the attention away from Lucy’s moment of disregard. Scottie let loose a long sigh, and it became clear to her that he’d heard this story a million times already. This caused Midge to giggle slightly, and Lucy to position herself into a stance more ready for storytelling.

“We were at the city library-” Lucy started, before being interrupted by an equally eager Midge. 

“Because of course. Two career women, bookish and college educated, of course we would be reading up a storm.”

“So there I am, on one end of the art illustration aisle. I look over my shoulder, and there she is, with frizzy hair and bags under her eyes.”

“Oh, stop it,” exclaimed Midge, softly swatting Lucy with a wry smile.

“She had a hangover. And because she’s a class act, Margaret still went to the library. So there I am, walking around the library in the afternoon, and I thought that I would ask her what book she was checking out.”

“Lucy is a bit of a cad, you see,” Midge said, words bent through that wry smile of hers.

“Am not! I’m perfectly respectable!” 

“Sure you are. And that’s why you approached me, a tired girl who you decided was cute, and leaned over her shoulder to see what design she was examining. That is not caddish at all, I suppose,” Midge quipped, turning back to Judy, who was a fine audience, judging by the way her eyes seemed to be locked on their interplay.

“I was curious!”

“About?”

“What you were reading!” Lucy exclaimed, voice jumping up an octave as Midge casted a knowing, humorous glance at Judy, who responded in kind with a soft laugh, which only caused Lucy to babble on further in feigned offence. 

“So then we started to talk about the artist I was checking out, and one thing lead to another…” Midge trailed off, and a soft smile curved onto her face. Judy felt the good memory stored in that smile more than she saw or heard it.

“And then we’re walking out of the library with an armful of books for both of us, and we just started walking around the city. I think we originally wanted to go somewhere else, but we were so distracted that we kept walking, and walking, and walking.”

“I think at some point we had found the edge of the city, and Lucy found this tiny little restaurant, the kind that’s more grease than anything else. So we find a booth, and then we order some food,” Midge said, and Judy couldn’t help but smile with fondness in the way that her eyes turned ever softer.

“We ordered hangover food, in case you weren’t absolutely clear on the fact,” said Lucy, knocking a shoulder against Midge.

“You know, everytime I hear this, I can never tell which one of you is more intent and focused on the fact that Midge was hungover when this all occurred,” John said, the words rolling over in that classic way, forever aided by whiskey.

“I can’t tell either,” said Judy, her voice shaky, like she needed to be a part of the conversation, if for only a moment.

Lucy responded to this with her classic knowing stare, followed by a sharp breath in before she continued. 

“So we keep going, hemming and hawing with our milkshakes and fries, touching hands and sharing glances before we pay our check, and then we book it,” she said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear in an uncanny impression of shyness. Judy supposed that it could be genuine, and that this was somehow a sensitive part of the story to her, but an odd, green part of her didn’t want to believe it.

“And then, once again, we find ourselves walking. Then, of all things, my heel breaks,” Midge said, and she paused to give Lucy some space for what must’ve been a routine interjection.

“Because Midge _insists_ on wearing those flimsy things.”

They shared some kind of glance between each other, one of extensive knowledge of the other. The sort of glance that was almost entirely comprised of history. It made something in Judy pang, and she knew objectively that it made no logical sense.

“Anyway, I end up having to walk the street in nothing but stockings, and we go to Lucy’s apartment, because it’s closer than mine. It’s there that we end up having the conversation about the fact that we definitely are into each other, and next thing I know-”

“She doesn’t have to hear about that part of the story,” said Lucy, a bit lewdly, causing Midge to wrinkle her nose in blushed embarrassment.

“I wasn’t going to say anything of the sort! I was going to say that I then found myself with a partner,” Midge said, before sparing Judy a commiserating glance. Granted, Judy had no idea what they were commiserating over, but she supposed it had something to do with the boyish candor of Lucy with a glass of red wine in her hand.

“All in all, I’d have to say that that’s… quite a lovely beginning,” Judy said awkwardly, sneaking a peek at Midge’s drowsy smile and pointedly ignoring the weird flutter that it brought to her chest.

Indeed, certainly an interesting way to begin.


	2. only you beneath the moon and under the sun

The next time Judy heard from Midge, it was through Scottie. 

It started when he had passed word along to her that Midge was in the market for a model, and he figured that Judy would be perfect for the job. Judy, still hopeless and lost in her own mind and the way it kept reminding her of her short interaction with Midge, said yes without thinking much of it.

The whole business went through him completely, he alerted them of where and when they’d meet. It reminded Judy of that time her friend set her up on a blind date, with all of the odd details of what to wear and how to act, while still keeping up a thin veneer of mystery. 

The blind date was disastrous. Judy hoped against hope that this wasn’t a repeat.

When she arrived to Midge’s apartment, close enough to Scottie’s that Judy only had to look at the address, written on her forearm in spindly ink, at the very end. 

She knocked on the door, nervous and hyper-aware of everything around her, like the sensation of the goosebumps on her arm from the drafty hallway, and the way the door in front of her is made of wood that’s worn down ever so slightly. 

Then, light flooded into the hallway as Midge swung the door open, pulling a pencil out of her bun and a green light shining on her back. It made an odd silhouette, and Midge waved Judy in with hurried, distracted hands. There was a bobby pin between her teeth, keeping her from forming proper words. She could only muster a hum that sounded vaguely like a “hello”, and she rushed back into the apartment.

Judy stood for a moment in the hallway, looking into the glowing arch that was Midge’s apartment. She took a deep breath in through her nose, rocked back on her heels, and launched herself forward for a couple of steps, the goosebumps still prickling her forearms until she paused again.

She hung awkwardly in the cramped foyer, watching Midge putter around beneath the lights. At some point, she replaced the bobby pin with a fine, willowy paint brush between her teeth as she rifled through one of her cabinets, humming some tune.

“So where do you want me to go?” Judy asked, her eyes roaming the room and stopping for a moment on a gorgeous sketch of Lucy, marked with a stain of a lipstick kiss. 

Judy didn’t have enough time to think about it, since Midge nabbed her attention by waving her over to the living room proper.

“So, this is for a poster commercial, of sorts. You know the clothing advertisements in front of Lenny’s?”

“Of course,” Judy responded as casually as possible, as if she hadn’t spent hours on end staring at the posters of flouncy, dreamlike dresses and delicate brassieres. Lenny’s was the cafe du jour for her friends, after all, and there were whole afternoons where she would circle through their bitter coffees and oversweet milkshakes, contemplating over a catalogue.

“Well, the catalogue company apparently wants me to do an illustration. Scottie recommended you, so, here we are. The dress is over there,” she said, her hand making some grand sweeping motion. Judy followed that direction, and her eyes landed on some slick black dress, the kind you wear to the city. She started to move that way, picking up the dress and holding the smooth fabric in her hands, feeling it against her fingertips.

“What’s with the green?” Judy asked, casting a cursory glance to the green lights shining against a simple set of solid white.

“I found these green sunglasses,” Midge said, pulling a pair out of her apron pocket and haphazardly tossing them to Judy, which she had to scramble to catch, “and they liked the sketch. They’re planning to do some tagline, like ‘Get Enchanted with… Lincoln’s Dresses.”

“Snazzy,” Judy said in response, holding her new treasure in her arms like it was a baby, “Where should I change?”

“Bathroom’s down the hall, first door on the right,” Midge replied as she flashed a smile to Judy that was addictively genuine. Judy could get used to _that_.

She followed the directions, walking through the cramped hallway and into the bathroom, which was cluttered and messy in the way Midge’s whole apartment was. The counter was cluttered with makeup and assorted jewelry, and Judy got the vague feeling that it was used by the scores of other models who Midge has worked with. 

Judy slithered into the dress, and slipped the shades on, giving herself a long, hard look in the mirror. Her eyes flickered down to the makeup, and she grabbed the doorway, and leaned out into the hall.

“Hey, should I put on any makeup? You have some on the counter,” Judy hollered.

“No, I think you’re fine. The glasses are enough of a focal point,” she replied, pulling herself into the frame of the hallway as she mentally calculated what it could look like, and Judy hung around to watch Midge go through a second of doubt, before nodding at her own decision and returning back to the easel.

Then, she properly swung herself out into the hallway, walking down with a jaunty step and thrown off balance from the heels. Se entered back into the space, and took a cautious, terrified step onto the set, before turning to the expectant Midge.

“Direct me, artist,” she said, glad that the sunglasses hid the unexplainable fidget in the corner of her eyes. Green-tinted Midge, as seen through the glasses, quirked her lips and cocked her head, before grabbing a thin paintbrush and holding it up as if it were a conductor’s stick.

“Lean back,” she said, before sticking the end of the brush in her mouth as she took a moment to consider the next step.

“Keep ‘em coming. The directions, I mean,” sputtered Judy. In response, Midge gave her a squint and a smile, before tripping over a laugh.

“I figured. Look a little to the left, like you’re waiting for a car to arrive. Like you’re waiting for something.”

“Was that in your sketch?” Judy asked, mentally scanning over the sketch she saw. She didn’t remember this part.

“No, I’m just feeling it in the room. Artist intuition, you could say,” Midge said. Judy smiled at the wry twist in her voice, before following the direction.

There was some more silence, simple and clean, before Judy was struck with a question that was too loud for her to keep in.

“When did you become an artist? How did you get this kind of job? It seems like a bit of an odd way to make a living, I guess... “ Judy said, trying to keep her head perfectly still as she asked.

“I did it throughout my life, and in college I started getting some commissions for it. One thing led to another, and my Art History degree certainly didn’t hurt. It worked out for me, and I afford this apartment and my lifestyle, and it’s odd but good,” she said in response, her eyes never leaving the canvas as she worked on making the broad strokes of the base.

Silence continued, blooming again and lulling both of them into a comfortable, relaxed silence. Judy, for a second, slipped her eyes closed and just let herself feel the presence of Midge in the room, like a star in the cool night of her vision. She opened her eyes to see Midge looking at her, discerning her next move, before returning back to the easel with a different brush than before.

Judy made herself comfortable by just looking at her artist, at the music-like way her arm traveled the canvas, and the way one curl of her hair dropped perfectly on her forehead. Midge was a painting herself, thought Judy, pointedly trying to ignore the way that thought sounded like a love song she’d heard the night before.

“Any stories you want to tell? Because I get the feeling that we’ll be here for a while,” said Judy, letting her eyes feather closed with calmness, seeing her face as MIdge must be painting it, with delicate lines like a violin.

“Well, did Johnny Boy tell you the classic story of when I broke the news to my parents that he and I weren’t getting married?” she asked, swiping the brush across the canvas with a flourish.

“No, I’m afraid he didn’t.”

“There’s not much to it. They disowned me for being a loose woman, because they thought I cheated on him. They figured a wild, horse-like girl like me would try my luck with every single guy I met,” she said. Her voice was detached and cool in a way that worried Judy, but she didn’t press her luck.

“That was, um, one severe miscalculation, if I do say so myself.”

“To be fair, I am a loose woman when it comes to other women. At least I _was_. Lucy put an end to it. I was never the type to settle down, but Lucy’s the kind of lady you settle down for. Tilt your head down a little bit,” said Midge, and it took a second too long for Judy to realize that it was an instruction for he modeling, not part of the story.

“So, what happened next?” Judy asked, when she had settled into the direction with the fluidity of a ballerina.

“Poverty, mostly. Shared an apartment with Johnny Boy. Lived in a ladies commune for a while, which was certainly interesting. I hated living in the forest, though, so it wasn’t a perfect match,” she said, and Judy quirked a brow, trying to rein in her burning curiosity.

“Ladies commune?”

“It was one of the wilder parts of my wild child years. Lots of romantic drama, unrequited love, kisses by the fireside. No one could make a roasted chicken quite like Gretchen… fresh, over the fire? She was a bad kisser, but she knew how to make a good dinner out of nothing,” she said, before looking up at Judy for reference again, and taking in her wide eyes and blush with a smile.

“Stop blushing, it’s messing with the color palette,” she teased, savoring the way it made Judy blush even more.

There was another silence, solid and without any questions. Judy let her eyes travel the room as her head stayed still, roaming over the cluttered side tables and couches with tears and frayed threads. Midge was real in a way Judy envied: she carried no pretense, no polish. She felt something warm bubbling in her chest, and she kept her lips in a straight line.

It was all under control, Judy thought, refusing to think about the inevitable chaos of whatever potion was brewing deep in her heart.

It was as controlled as her poise under the green light, as calm and simple as the drag of brush against canvas.

All under control.


	3. follow you wherever you may go

After that afternoon, in all of its scorching splendor, Judy found herself only passing Midge at various parties or outings. They would share small talk, but somehow the intensity of it wouldn’t leave: even when they were just talking about the weather, Judy couldn’t help but feel something rich behind her teeth, like there was something on the brink of happening. 

Her friend from the shop said it was because mercury is in retrograde, and the other swore up and down that god was about to reveal something big to her. 

(The diversity of the people she spent her shop girl time with never failed to shock her. She’s met the whole gamut, and it left her quite incapable of being disapproving, because somehow, the lesbian communist witch and the pure Illinois girl looking to make it in the city are just as happy as the other. There was something freeing about it, the idea that she can really be anything in this town as long as she does it with confidence.)

Things only get intense, however, when Scottie ran into her at a police gala she was waitressing for, and asked her to tag along on an “outing”. She didn’t know why he said it with a slow, suggestive tone, like it was a bit of a joke, but she just knew that the answer was yes.

She got pulled away almost immediately after she said her shaky “yes”. A creepy guy in a blue suit tried to put some moves on her, then she spilled some mysterious pink juice on her white blouse, but at least she got an envelope of cash and that mysterious invitation. It’s the exact night she’s gotten used to: a little bit pointless but ultimately necessary.

This invite, however, spoke of a different kind of night, the eventful kind where everything tasted like raspberry and nothing stayed the same. A true city night, she thought. 

Believe it or not, that’s what she got.

-

It started at 6:56pm, when her makeup wasn’t totally done and a knock sounded at the door, and her stomach jumped with the feeling that she wasn’t done, but she still pasted on her shopgirl smile and walked to the door.

She swung open the door, revealing the perfect, gangly tableau of John putting a cigarette case in his pocket while Midge draped her arms over his shoulders, and Lucy had her chin hooked over Midge’s shoulder, looking a bit wilder than Judy had ever seen her. Lucy’s lipstick was a bit messier, the makeup around her eyes more smudged. There was a distinct ruffle in her hair, like a hand ran through it. It was probably Midge’s hand, figured Judy with a weird feeling on her sternum.

“So, what’s the destination?” Judy asked, her voice tremulous. She thumbed at the edge of her lip, worried that the lipstick was uneven. 

“Pearly Sullivan. It’s absolutely decadent,” said John, his voice as velvety as possible.

“Am I dressed well enough?” she asked, looking down at her silvery dress. It was the nicest dress she owned, but it didn’t feel up to par with the crowd in front of her. 

“Sure. There are all types there,” said Lucy, just vague enough that Judy was led to a soft sense of panic. Was there an insult hidden beneath the polish of her words? Judy certainly _felt_ like there was, but she couldn’t be sure, and she wasn’t really in the mood to find out.

“Don’t worry, honey, you’ll fit right in,” said Midge, and Judy’s panic only increased, but there was now a hint of glee in it. Honey? Were she and Midge that close? She didn’t know why a pet name from a friend was getting her this riled up, but she certainly wasn’t going to question it when it made her smile this widely.

She ditched the train of thought and shut the door behind her, trailing behind the gaggle of people in her hallway as they marched along, leaving laughs in the air and stray glitter on the floor.

-

When they arrived at the club after a hilarious car ride in John’s car (Judy had no idea that Midge could do that many impressions, and they were so spot on that it make her laugh until her stomach cramped), Judy realized her major mistake. 

She walked in, bumping shoulders with Lucy, and realized that this was a club for homosexuals.

Oh, dear god.

In the corners, on plush velvet couches, couples were kissing, lipstick on lipstick and beard on beard. There were people in dresses with stubble on their chins, and the smell of artificial strawberries clung to the air. Her eyes widened, her heart rate quickened, and she wished that she was dead. This was going to be the most awkward night on her _life_.

Damn, it really sucked that she was only attracted to men, otherwise this would be a much more fun night, thought Judy.

Then, she did the dangerous thing, and considered what it would be like to be attracted to women: to stare at their lips and ghost her hand over their arms. The feeling of being addicted to the conversation, the sensation of a heated gaze. Kind of like with Midge.

Holy Cow, just like with Midge. That’s what she felt for Midge. _Attraction_.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I certainly need a drink,” she said, her voice suddenly choked and helpless. She couldn’t be queer, this was stupidity! She was just running on fumes, just a little bit too tired. She was not attracted to Midge. Not at all.

“I think I could go for one myself,” said John, voice smooth as silk as he walked to the bar, his gaze fixed on some man at the bar, and he looked vaguely like an animal on the hunt.

Geez Louise, was John queer too? Was everyone secretly a homosexual? 

“Darling, keep your boy from getting into too much trouble,” said Lucy, breaking Judy’s panicked thoughts.

“You know I can’t do that. After the accident…” Midge trailed off, and Judy watched him talk to the mystery man. Whoever it was, he looked perfectly nice.

“He could choose worse,” said Lucy, apparently deciding the exact same thing about his target that Judy did. The pair was leading her to the other side of the bar, where they could spy on John and his conquest in a subtle way.

“It’s not Scottie-Boy that’s making a mistake, to be clear. I’m sure this guy is perfectly reasonable and lovely, but some people simply aren’t ready for anything resembling human closeness. John is one of those people. But goddammit, if he’s not gonna try,” said Midge, looking sadly at John as he laid on the moves with an uncomfortable precision.

Lucy ended the conversation by waving the bartender over, and ordering three Shirley Temples. Judy hadn’t said a word since they got to the bar, but she wasn’t going to ask Lucy how she knew her favorite drink. Her mind was too occupied, as she scanned the room and picked out men _and_ women she could imagine dancing with. Was this attraction or just a really intense kind of confusion? This wasn’t something she had ever truly thought about, and the possibility of it overwhelmed her. Could she… do things with women?

“What’s on your mind?” asked Midge, sliding over the drink that Judy hadn’t even noticed was served.

“I’m not sure,” said Judy. She wasn’t lying.

“Judy, I’d love to help, but my book club friends are here and I have to-”

“Go,” said Judy, waving Midge off, and morosely watching her back as she went to a different corner of the room, glass in hand. It was like she was drowning, and no one was going to help her out. She was so lost in her thoughts that when Lucy broke her out of it, it could only bring more confusion.

“Hit me with your stream of consciousness,” said Lucy, her eyebrows dipping elegantly. Judy wondered if _that_ was attractive too, and it scared her that the answer might be “yes”.

“This is a club for homosexuals. I’m not a homosexual. I think? I don’t think so, but women are… attractive? Am I allowed to say that? I want… I don’t know what I want, but the idea that what I feel is attraction is scary and I don’t know why. Does any of that make sense?” asked Judy, feeling a bit like she was insane. 

“Judy? I know we’ve never been close, but I want you to know that you can trust me, because I totally get it. When I first thought about it, I felt the same way,” said Lucy, and Judy had never seen her so kind, so honest.

“But you’re a-”

“I like women. I date them, just the way you date guys. And if you like women, you can date them. Trust your feelings, alright? If you think there’s attraction, let it grow and flourish. Don’t try to choke out a part of yourself just because it’s scary. Which it is. Being queer is terrifying.”

“But I’m not! I don’t want to be!”

“Sweetie, that won’t stop your feelings. You are in a room of people feeling the same way. Think about acting on it,” said Lucy, and she spotted John walking towards them, so she drew herself up into the haughty position before continuing, “Or don’t, it doesn’t matter.”

“I get why Midge likes you,” said Judy, right as John sidled up to the pair, his boy toy hanging on his arm.

“Tell Midge that I went home sober and alone, alright?” says John, all too seriously, and Judy doesn’t have time to react before he’s off like a jet.

“How often does he do that?” asked Judy, looking at the swinging door as John and his “friend” left together.

“Going home ‘sober and alone’? Too often,” said Lucy, and they shared a commiserating look, an “our friend is struggling and there’s nothing we can do” look.

“Is he… okay?” asked Judy, and she could see Lucy’s humanity seep back in, could see the slow shift from a marble sculpture to a breathing. bleeding woman. Her eyes fall a bit, and the two of them watch the swinging door slow until it’s fully closed.

“No. Not really. He’s trying to get some girl out of his mind through his pants, and he’s sort of blowing through every bar in the city. He picks up all kinds of guys and gals, and we know we can’t stop him. It’s helpless on both ends,” she answered. Judy took a contemplative sip of her drink. She has a pretty good idea of the girl he’s trying to forget, she’s heard the stories from Midge.

“Do you think he’ll figure it out?” Judy asked. 

“Probably. He’s got a whole life ahead of him,” said Lucy, and Judy reached across for her hand, giving her a consoling squeeze. Lucy gave her an appreciative look, and squeezed back. They shared a moment of understand, looking at each other and knowing that they wanted the same things.

“Hey, honey? Cecilia wants to dance with Judy, and I don’t know how to tell her that Judy’s not, um, available to girls, what should I say?” asked Midge, coming from behind Lucy and breaking the moment.

“Let them dance,” said Lucy, casting a look to Judy as if to tell her to take the chance, to make the jump.

“Tell her that i’d love to,” said Judy, looking from across the bar and seeing a mousy, redheaded girl looking right back at her. 

Judy smiled, and the girl smiled back. The soft fissure of attraction sprung back up in her mind. If there was a time to dive in, it was now, decided Judy.

“Don’t play around with Cecilia, Luce. She’s a nic-”

“Who said I’d be playing around?” asked Judy, before pulling herself out of her seat, “Watch my drink.”

Lucy obliged, pulling it a bit closer to her, and Judy marched forward, ready to face her redheaded fate.

-

Cecelia was a nice girl, Judy decided thirty seconds into their sloppy waltz. She had these copper freckles and a gap in her teeth, the kind that screamed former country girl, so they discussed the woes of being small town girls with big city hearts.

Judy would occasionally flick her gaze of Cecelia’s shoulder to the bar, where Midge was giving the pair her best evil eye while Lucy sipped on her drink, looking as glacial as always. The sight of the two of them, crammed together and exhibiting suh polar opposite emotions made Judy’s stomach hurt a little bit, so she just turned her focu back to Cecelia, and to fixing a stray curl on her pinned hair.

By the time the dance morphed into a foxtrot, Judy had some bigger things on her mind than the sun and moon at the bar, and instead looked inward to answer the big question.

Why was she at a bar for homosexuals, dancing with a lesbian, and enjoying every second of it?

It wasn’t the night Judy expected (although if she was being honest, she didn’t have any clear expectations of anything, so most things would’ve probably shocked her), and she wasn’t having a bad time. Not to mention that the feeling of Cecelia’s arms around her was also… not bad.

Judy wasn’t feeling very coherent at all. She probably had too much of that Shirley Temple, judging by the way that she felt absurdly warm, and how the colors of the night seemed to blend together. 

She decided, as the band had a lovely trumpet solo, to just give in, to just fall into the rhythm of this night, of this dance and the song that guided it. When she let it all go, the revelations practically flooded her, and she was finally open to receiving them.

 _I’m attracted to women_ , thought Judy, and her relaxation smoothed over any shock and awe. That was just what was in the rhythm of her heart, and she couldn’t ignore it. 

Then, she connected another one of the dots, and realized that she was definitely attracted to Midge. Midge especially, although she couldn’t deny the involuntary flares of interest for Lucy and Cecelia. With this in her mind, she pulled Cecelia a little bit closer, and smiled.

From across the bar, Lucy saluted her, as if she could sense the waves of peace that Judy had reached. Judy just winked, and hoped that it was enough. It was enough.

-

“Now is the moment of truth… did John take his car with him when he went home?” asked Lucy as the trio burst out of the doors.

“He couldn’t have. I stole his keys,” said Midge, pulling them out of her purse with a panache that made Judy’s heart flutter. Midge was the sober one in their sweaty little crowd, so she walked ahead of them, leading them to the car. Lucy fell back a bit, catching Judy and leaning into her space.

“So, what’s the verdict?” Lucy said, quietly and with care. 

“Women are very lovely, and I… I love them,” said Judy, slurring over her words.

“Here here!” said Lucy, back at her normal volume as she raised one hand in victory.

Then, they all piled into the car, the windows open at Lucy’s request (“It feels good on my skin!” “Anything for you, dear.”). Judy laid herself out in the backseat, not worrying about wrinkling her skirt. She stared up at the car ceiling in wonder at the life that had been opened up for her, at the truths she had mined.

“That was the most successful night on the town that I’ve ever had,” she said, feeling wistful and a little bit tired.

“I’m glad, love,” said Midge, and Judy just smiled at the ceiling, knowing that beyond the ceiling, there were stars.


	4. there's something due anyday, i will know right away soon as it shows

Judy spent the next few days coping with the realization that she liked girls too, and it certainly opened her eyes up to the weird and wonderful world of self-realization. She would stay up late, looking over her high school yearbooks (one of the few bits of memorabilia she kept from her old home), and she’d flip through the pages, realizing that she’d always been this way: with interests and attraction towards women.

She’d had boyfriends in high school, and she was certainly attracted to them too. She looked over her old annotations on the pages, and could see the pen markings of hearts around the basketball captain, and remembers the hilariously passionate feelings she had towards Stephen Shapiro. 

She also, in retrospect, had fairly passionate feelings towards Julia Dougherty, who was famous in the town for being a fantastic tutor and getting some fantastic scholarships. Judy was especially fascinated with her, even though Julia was a year above her. They had met a couple of times, since Judy had her fair share of math troubles in junior year. 

Judy put a heart next to Julia’s picture in the yearbook, with a scrawled caption of “Saved me from failing math!”

Hindsight was 20/20, she figured, and she’d end the night by closing her yearbook with a sigh and mentally pushing down the problem that had come out of that discovery.

She liked women, and one of those women was Midge. Who was taken. She was also John’s best friend, and a successful woman. Judy, on the other hand, was a sales girl who was uneducated, unexperienced, and unpolished. 

And thus, Judy’s new mental war continued in a new, unexpected direction.

-

Despite this big realization and its ensuing struggles, Judy still managed to settle into this new life with relentless vigor. She was forever ready for the next group outing, and soon she’d built up her own inside jokes and memories with the crew, which was no easy feat. She’d even gotten to the point where she could host a party, and with New Year’s on its way, it was the perfect moment for a ragtag societal debut.

The best thing was that she’d managed to convince her friend to reserve his cafe for New Year’s Eve, since all the employees had the night off. As long as she didn’t “dive into her Kansas roots and turn the place into a pigsty”. 

Once her promise was made, she extended ecstatic invites to her coworkers and the Lucy/Midge/John collective, who promised to invite their friends. It was promising to be a night to remember, so much so that John even bought her a dress, some gaudy red nightmare that made Midge laugh, quipping that this was how John planned to “move on from Madeline”. Judy certainly didn’t understand how this puffy dress would help John get over the now-mythical Madeline, but she certainly wasn’t going to turn down a free dress.

(“It’s because you look like her, and if he can separate you two enough in his mind he’ll realize that the Madeline saga is over,” Lucy attempted to explain over coffee, no doubt confusing the people at the neighboring tables. Judy didn’t understand either, but she just nodded and let Lucy continue.)

The biggest surprise of the last few weeks was her growing friendship with Lucy, whose wry humor and moments of sweetness had given Judy a special sense of belonging. Lucy’s approval was simply different. It was hard won, given that she’s the harshest critic around.

When Judy invited Lucy to her New Years party, and Lucy _accepts_? That’s what belonging felt like. 

The only question, then, was how she was going to pull off the party, so she launched herself into planning, running on nothing but tea and a vain hope that if she pretended to be a well adjusted professional woman, that she could buy some time while learning to be a well adjusted professional woman.

Soon, after phone calls and trips to the store and getting a worryingly comprehensive list of things that she probably shouldn’t bring up, she was ready. Before she even knows it, the night is upon her. The clock on the wall of the cafe said that it was thirty minutes until the party would start, and Judy decided to focus on a magazine instead of her impending debut.

When the countdown hit 25 minutes before the party starts, Midge, John, and Lucy swaggered in, all three with shopping bags in hand.

“What are you guys doing-”

“Using our expendable income to make this party even better,” said Midge, and Judy had a sharp moment of irritation because this was _her_ party, goddamnit, and she didn’t want help, no matter how much they thought she needed it.

“It’s already good enough, I don’t need your… expendable income,” said Judy, trying to mask the hurt in her voice. Did they really think that she couldn’t handle a single party?

In response, Lucy just lifted a single, delicately maintained eyebrow, and Judy felt so small that for the first time in this whole planning process, she genuinely considered quitting. There was a fantasy in her head, where she’d just walk out, but the thought fled as quickly as it came.

“What did you buy?” she asked, trying to bury the hurt behind her facial expression. 

“Lots of sunglasses. Lots of wine. My two biggest vices, really,” said Lucy. 

“Why the sunglasses? The sun’s already setting,” Judy asked, her eyes trailing John’s hand as it digs into the bag and pulls out a cheap pair of sunglasses, slipping them on with a lazy smile.

“Style, my friend,” said John as luxuriously as he could. Judy wanted to laugh and roll her eyes and scream all at once. 

“John, the only way you could be less tolerable is if you’d say ‘comrade’ instead of friend,” Lucy drawled, whipping out her own pair. Judy could only share helpless eye contact with Midge, who openly rolled her eyes at their antics.

“I’ll consider it… comrade,” said John.

“If McCarthy catches you, don’t rat me out,” said Lucy.

“As if he’d catch me!” John scoffed, eliciting a rumble of laughter from the whole circle. 

“ _Anyway_ , let’s get this party started. I officially place a ban on political intrigue for the rest of the night, none of your communist discussion,” said Midge, her voice colored by a tinge of amusement. 

Judy shot her a thankful smile and turned to her decorations, carefully placing some beads around her cake (still covered up with a glass top, because Judy swore to herself that this party could have every disaster but a stale cake). 

“Any way I can assist our hostess with the mostest?” asked Midge, sidling up next to Judy at the table, ignoring the continued chatter of Lucy and John.

Judy took a quick glance around the room, at the unopened bags of supplies and ruffled tablecloths, rustling listlessly from the drafts of air from the big fan that circled above them all. Her exploratory look ended on Midge’s face, expectant and quite lovely.

“Could you set up the utensils?” Judy asked, hoping that there wasn’t a blush on her face, or anything silly and schoolgirl-esque like that. 

“Absolutely!” said Midge, getting straight to work. Judy had a pang of classic Christian guilt at the fact that all this yearning was not only directed at a woman, but a _taken_ woman. That was at least two layers of hell right there.

“Ey, Judy! Can you settle a debate real quick?” yelled John, a boyish look on his face. Judy couldn’t help but smile as she paused her ministrations to saunter over to the duo.

“What’s the debate?” she asked.

“Well, _I_ say that chocolate ice cream is the only logical choice, and Lucy here says vanilla.”

“You guys will fight over anything, won’t you?” asked Judy, her heart, however irritated it was, feeling a flash of affection for her ridiculous friends.

“Who else would I fight with? Midge? She’s always right, I don’t want to take that bet!” joked Lucy, fiddling a bit with her sunglasses, as if she were trying to find the absolute perfect position, and she had to try out every possibility so she could make an informed choice.

“Well, if she’s always right, why don’t we ask for her opinion?” 

“No! That’ll take out the adventure of the debate. We work on the answer and then check it with Midge, we never _start_ with Midge,” explained John. Judy looked over to Midge at the table, and judging by the quiet, sly smile on her face as she bent over the table to arrange the silverware, Judy figured that she could hear the whole thing.

“Alright, so why do you need my input. I’m just a country bumpkin shop girl, after all,” said Judy, hoping that the insecurity was purely undetectable in her voice. 

“You’re a woman of the people, Judy. And you’re smart. We need a non-bourgeoisie opinion in this conversation.”

“Sweet Jesus, you two really are communists, aren’t you?”

Lucy, in reply, slid her glasses down her nose to show her ostentatious wink, and Judy decided to drop that powder keg as quickly as she could.

“Alright, so the question is chocolate against vanilla?” Judy asked, sounding as world weary as she could manage.

“That’s the one. We’ve been debating for what feels like hours now-”

“Even though it’s only been about three minutes,” finished Lucy.

“They’ve been three very fraught minutes.”

“Three fraught minutes over ice cream? The answer is obvious-” began Midge, twirling around to face the two, who quickly tried to stop her in her tracks with yelps of warning and raised hands.

“Don’t say something you can’t take back, my friend!” warned John, before pointedly looking back at Judy, who had by now broken out into a fit of fond giggles. “You, on the other hand- please say your opinion.”

“Well I’d say the right answer is probably-” began Judy, before being interrupted by a pointed cough from Midge, a cough that sounded an awful lot like “vanilla”. The smiles and giggles from Judy returned in full force at the way that Lucy and John went on guard, sending warning glances every which way.

“Pray tell, Judy, what were you going to say before _Margaret_ so rudely interrupted you?” said Lucy pointedly, and when Judy shot Midge a look to gauge the response, some of the humor had left her crinkled eyes. Odd.

“I was going to say that my vote is for whatever Midge votes for. I trust her opinion,” said Judy, and when she looked back at Midge, the smile was a bit stronger than before. Knowing that it was her doing _may_ have given Judy a feeling of fluttering in her heart.

“Al _right_ ,” groaned John, before swiveling to gesture towards Midge. “Which do you prefer, our almighty and all knowing Midge?”

“Vanilla, definitely vanilla.”

“Thanks for agreeing with me,” said Lucy. Judy has a quiet moment where she felt like there should be an added endearment, like a “honey” or a “sweetie”. There was this feeling in the room, like something was off, like something was about to change in a way that was impossible to repair.

Judy looked at her friends, at their easy banter and the way that they made her smile. She felt, despite all of the changes that were about to hit them, absolutely overjoyed to be entering the new year with these people. She felt impossibly lucky that this was her life at that very moment.

She took a look at the clock. Only thirty minutes until the party started, and then a couple of hours before the year began anew. 

And so the countdown began.

-

An hour later, at 3 hours to midnight, thirteen partygoers had arrived. The party was rolling along now, with a spinning door of players around the piano, taking advantage of their childhood piano lessons and current training to entertain the folks around the room. Judy had suffered through three different versions of Chopin’s “Chopsticks”, and had swallowed down three glasses of champagne.

The beauty of it was watching all of her disparate friend groups mingle together, finding friendship in all of their differences. She didn’t ever jump into the socialization that she watched so fondly, she just organized the details around the edges- fixing crooked wall hangings, wiping off miniature puddles of spilled drinks.

Every detail was perfect in a way she could’ve never expected. She had so few expectations at the beginning that everything was a bit of a surprise to her. 

John was surrounded by some of her store clerk friends, men and women alike, and his stories of the police force coupled with his unbridled charisma were impossibly successful. Midge and Lucy were in a quiet, slightly unhappy conversation in the corner, if their somber expressions were anything to go by.

Despite that point of discomfort in the general smooth, flowing rhythm of the party, all was going quite well. Judy silently patted herself on the back, and prayed that the next three hours were just as smooth and comfortable.

-

“Judy? We need to talk,” said Lucy, reaching out to grab Judy’s shoulder, shocking her and making her jump a bit.

“What’s going on?” Judy asked, putting down her plate of half-eaten cake, the fork sticking out of it and threatening to clatter down onto the plate at any second. Her eyes flickered to the clock: 2 hours to midnight. She only had to get through two more hours, she assured herself, and then she’ll be done with her first successful hosting job.

She can get through this, she reminded herself, and she let Lucy pull her outside.

The sky was dark, the air cloying and cold. The sounds of the party- the chatter and the piano and the occasional round of cheers- were muted and faded through the walls as Lucy carefully let the door close. A car came roaring past, but it rode off into the night, the windy, brushing sound fading into the night.

“So, what did you want to tell me?” Judy asked, looking around before letting her focus land properly on Lucy. She took in the look on her face, the nervousness and melancholy that finally came to light under the flickering glow of the streetlamp. 

“Well… I- it’s a hard thing to- you know how I _hate_ ruining a good party,” said Lucy, her posh tone creeping into the words. Judy had no patience for it.

“What’s going on?” Judy asked, her tone heavier now, more intense. Lucy sobered up, her face falling, looking different than Judy had ever seen her. It was an odd look, and Judy looked deep into the expression, trying to recognize it. Then it hit her.

The look on Lucy’s face was insecurity. 

“What’s going on?” Judy asked again, her voice quieter and evermore intense. Lucy’s eyes finally locked onto Judy’s, and something about the weight of that stare made her wonder if things were even worse than she imagined.

“I’m leaving. Moving to New York. I got a massive offer, and I couldn’t turn it down. I really couldn’t,” she said, and she had turned from insecurity to hopelessness, looking desperately around instead of letting her eyes stick to Judy’s face.

The news itself took a couple of seconds to really hit Judy. The knowledge that the careful balance of their friend group would be disrupted was definitely big for her, but the first thing that she realized, oddly enough, was that Midge must be going through a tough time over this. Without thinking, that was the first thing she asked.

“How did Midge react?” she asked. 

“Pretty normally, if I’m being honest. She cried, she told me to go and follow my dreams, to stay safe in the city. She was sad but supportive, I guess, but our relationship is over,” Lucy said, forcing a quiet smile. 

_How could things change so quickly?_ , Judy wondered. Just hours ago they were joking about ice cream flavors, and now she was seeing Lucy with her watery smile and sad eyes.

“Are you… I can’t tell if your taking the news poorly or not,” said Lucy, and Judy had to admire one thing about her- Lucy’s face could appear absolutely heartbroken, but her voice would still be as smooth as silk. Judy would love that kind of composure, especially during the goodbyes.

“I can’t tell yet either. I like to stay a mystery,” said Judy, causing a rumble of laughter from Lucy. There was a raucous cheer that filtered its way through the walls, causing Lucy and Judy to look back at the door, hiding behind its wood a party and a goodbye.

“We should probably get back,” said Lucy, her eyes sticking on the door as Judy’s flickered to her face.

“If anyone deserves to go out in style, it’s you,” said Judy.

-

5 minutes to midnight, and Judy was climbing up the walls.

Her first party had been more or less a success, and it was about to reach its climax, and there was Scottie in the center of it all, belting out some tune while too loud piano accompanies him and everyone sings along and someone sloshes beer and on the floor and who’s going to clean that up after-

“Hey, Judy?” a kind, vacant voice asked behind her. It took her a moment for her mind to catch up, but she realized that it was Midge, and that Midge had some odd, lost look on her face that Judy just wanted to kiss away.

“Midge? How’re you doing?” asked Judy, hoping that the concern that creeped easily into her voice wasn’t too obvious. Judging by Midge’s smile that straddled the line between touched and uncomfortable, she failed quite miserable.

“As well as could be expected. So you got the news?” she asked, and at this Judy realized that she had her bag in hand and her coat slung over her shoulder, as if she were about to leave. She offered a raised eyebrow at the sight, a silent question. “I’m tired, so I figured I’d go home before the other partygoers went ballistic.”

Judy nodded, before glancing to the clock.

Four minutes.

“Let me walk you out,” she said, hoping that the request wasn’t too brusque. 

Midge didn’t respond with words, she just nodded and wrinkled her nose a little bit with her blossoming smile. She turned on her heel, and Judy followed her. She walked through the party, following Midge like a train on a wedding dress, tuning in softly to the music of the party, of the rising and falling of laughter and music. 

Then, they were outside, and the door closed behind them. It was a scene that vaguely resembled the one where Lucy had broken the news the Judy, but now there was a different feeling charging the encounter, something that bordered on excitement. 

Judy didn’t know what she was excited for, but she could feel it brewing in the pit of her stomach. 

“So, umm... what a night,” said Judy, lingering. Midge’s car was nearby, all she had to do was walk towards it. Judy didn’t want that to happen just yet, she wanted _it_ to happen, though she didn’t really know what it was.

“I’d say so,” said Midge, stalling and swaying in the cool night air.

Three minutes to midnight.

“Do you think we’ll change?” Judy asked, her voice breaking the settling calm of the brisk atmosphere around them.

“Hm?”

“Us. The group. Now that Lucy’s leaving… what’s going to happen? Will we still see each other like we all did? Will we still visit those bars, and all of that?” Judy asked. She hoped she didn’t sound as desperate as she felt. 

“I think we’ll change, but I don’t think we’ll separate. The dynamic will be different, but I think we’ll still work. You don’t have to worry about losing me, Judy,” said Midge, and Judy could almost cry. She didn’t know how much she needed to hear that.

“This New Year will be good,” said Judy.

Two minutes.

“You’re a real sweetheart. I hope you know that,” Midge said, and Judy was caught between the urge to look deep into her eyes and look shyly at the floor. She chose the floor, and she could feel a lock of hair fall from her bun and flounce onto her forehead. 

“I’ll never be sweeter than you. That much can’t be denied.”

There was that silence again, and Judy’s eyes stayed down, her head tilted low and her focus shifting from the floor to Midge’s shoes to the grass that peeked out of the concrete.

One minute.

Sound streamed through the door as the countdown began, as the party began to rally around each other, yelling as they watched the clock tick down. The sound got progressively louder. 

Midge walked some steps closer to Judy, she could see it as her shoes stepped lightly, like an angel floating on air, over to Judy, until she was just a pace or two away.

Thirty seconds, Judy registered, trying to figure out where to focus between the combined stimuli of the screams in the room nearby, the warmth of Midge’s nearness, and the sound of blood rushing to her head. 

Midge’s fingers creeped up to her chin, pulling her head up until they were eye to eye. The position was so intimate, and Judy realized that in this position, she’d do anything Midge asked.

“You are the real sweetheart here, Judy,” said Midge, so softly that Judy could only just hear it, and she guided her head to the side, and as the crowd through the door screamed the final countdown at the top of their lungs, Midge gave Judy a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Have a happy new year,” she said, pulling away and walking determinedly away, climbing into her car and speeding off with so much swagger that Judy might’ve combusted if not for the grounding coolness that surrounded her. 

“What a way to start a year,” she muttered under her breath, lifting her fingertips to the spot where Midge had kissed.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for reading this, and if ou enjoyed it, please comment! I am outlining the future chapters, but i always love feedback to encourage me to actually write them. Stay cool!!


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